let's hear it for the boy

[trombones]

Another day, another toddler. Now, there's a small skeleton monster wandering the castle. He's three years old to be exact, but who here could date the exact age of walking, talking bones? It's easy to tell it's Sans. He's shorter than usual, a lot more bug-eyed (socketed, whatever), but that blue jacket and perma-grin are still dare. He's pretty cute for a monster who grew up to be a walking, talking grease machine.

For anyone wandering the library in the middle of the afternoon, you might find a pile of books and blankets piled at a table. The blankets cover most of the table, save for a small "entrance" supported by books. The blanket is just thin enough to see the candlelight inside, as well as a skeleton-shaped shadow.

Should you choose get closer, two pairs of large blue eyes glow from under the entrance and dart out. Two floating skulls, both resembling dogs, speed out and lap several circles around your feet in a flurry of barks and sniffing. Mostly sniffing. They're not really dangerous, they're actually pretty excited by the new company.

Sans pokes his head out.

"Hey! You guys are supposed to be guard dogs!!"

By now, the skulls are yipping and bouncing in their floating spots. Sans groans about as exasperatively as a toddler can get. Which is a lot, if you've ever met a three-year-old. They're pretty sassy. He props himself on his stomach, and in the gap he makes between the entrance and the candlelight, you might be able to catch the pile of Christmas-themed sweets stashed under the table. Like, a lot. He stole a lot of cookies.

"Hi. I'm Sans. This is my... this is my big cool fort. I got treasure and guard dogs and a moat."

He points to a pile of books laid in a uneven circle around the table. That's the moat.

Comments

[vvaylon]

Waylon wakes up smaller, still scaled, and considerably skinnier. It was about this age he learned to walk with a swagger so people would read into the implicit threat and just leave him alone. It's with this swagger (to no one, because he's all alone in this dank, damp little cave) he ventures into the castle proper.

The sun is gloriously out, and there's nothing more that Waylon would love to do than go bask in the sun outside. He sees kids playing down there, though, he sees people, and decides better of it.

When he goes into the next room, he's surrounded on two sides by... bones? They're nothing like the tough rotties that Waylon's well-learned to fear. He almost winds up to kick one before he hears an exasperated voice, and a grinning child-- nope, not grinning, just a skeleton like the rest of everything in here, apparently-- comes into the open.

"Oh." Moat. He plonks himself down on one of the moat-books, tail uncomfortably squashed. "You need a crocodile?"

[trombones]

"A crocodile...?"

Sans crawls the rest of the way out of his well-guarded fort and sits cross-legged. A crocodile-looking monster isn't all that unusual to him, it's actually a familiar sight compared to all the strange-looking monsters he had seen since he got here. Waylon was stranger, but Sans knew a lot of scaly monsters like him back home.

"Yeah!! A crocodile! Then we'd have a super strong moat!"

waylon: pay me. waylon: asks for food anyways

[vvaylon]

"Heheh." Waylon lays down on the moat-books, sharp edges poking into his sides, but he was well-enough protected by his clothes and scales that it didn't hurt. He snaps his teeth together playfully at one of the skulls when it ventures near enough; though he's being careful, it's easy to see how he could easily hurt someone without carefully monitoring what he was doing. It's why he's staying so low, now-- he doesn't want to hurt Sans.

"You gotta pay me, though. I don't do croc work for free." He reaches towards the snack stockpile in the fort. "Can I have a cookie?"

nice

[trombones]

Sans watches Waylon as he does so, his grin spreading even wider in more excitement. He crawls over to him. This is perfect. He's like, super excited to have a moat crocodile right now.

"Yeah!" He reaches under the blanket and pulls out a large platter full of sweets jacked from the kitchen, cookies and all. "Here you go!"

Might as well be payment anyways.

[vvaylon]

It certainly is. Waylon hooks a claw over the lip of the platter and pulls it closer to himself and picks out an absurdly tiny, intricately decorated cookie. It's shaped like a snowflake, blue and white icing and a dusting of sugar over the top.

"This is... fancy."

He angles it to show Sans, and then downs it in one crunch. "I'm Waylon, by the way. What's your name?"

[trombones]

Oh, neat! Sans didn't see that cookie before. He watches it with a small fascination until Waylon eats it.

"Wow! That looks like Snowdrakes!"

He nods.

"I'm Sans. Hi Waylon!"

[vvaylon]

"Nice to meet you, Sans." The pleasantry is well-rehearsed, but not hollow as it is usually. "What're Snowdrakes?"

He props his head up on his hands, licks his lips to chase away errant crumbs. He has a spot of blue icing on his upper lip that he misses.

[trombones]

"They're monsters. Like me. But they look like snowflakes."

He digs for another snowflake cookie off the platter and holds it up. "Like this!"

[vvaylon]

"Monsters." He sounds flatly disbelieving, even though here he is! Looking much like a monster himself.

He reaches for the cookie and snatches it out of Sans' hands, grinning. "Well, anything's possible then. D'yknow if this place connects to anywhere?"

[trombones]

"Nope."

Sans shakes his head.

"There's a big yard and you can see the sky though! Me and Pop saw it. We're the only monsters who've ever seen it now."

[vvaylon]

"The sky." Pardon Waylon for sounding less than awed. He changes the subject.

"Planning on opening this fort for business?"

He's comfortable on the books by now. Some sun reaches through one of the library's windows, and he could be said to be sunning himself.